That place where I live.

I have not been a prolific blogger as of late. The last time I made this sort of comment was back in April when I particularly distressed about a situation and was far too emotional to blog.

It is now November, my favorite month of the year, and I’m not distressed or emotional. Rather, I have been focusing my energy on other exciting endeavors.

I’m buying a house. The house itself is modest. I have nice fenced backyard, two bedrooms, fireplace, hipster kitchen, washer dryer, garage, wood floors, and one bathroom. It was built in 1937 I think, but it is in pretty good shape.

The house is in a very hip neighborhood and my neighbors are a bit odd.

The woman across the street is very nice. On multiple occasions she has invited me to her backyard movie watching parties. She is about 5’7 with tattoos covering her arms and a nose ring. She seems terribly interesting. I hope to soon hear her story and be brave enough to attend one of these movie watching parties.

The neighbor to my left is odd. She is probably in her 60’s and I think she lives alone. One day I mowed her lawn considering the line between our yards is a bit ambiguous, so I figured I’d do the nice thing and mow it.  Ever since then, whenever I see her she gives me this look like I stole something from her. It’s very odd. She creeps her head around the side of house and watches me as I walk to my Jeep in the morning for work. It’s starting to freak me out.

Side note: I don’t have shades or curtains on the windows to my room. I have this fear that one night I’ll wake up to my neighbor lady standing outside my window with a pitchfork. I realize this is irrational, but you never know. If you would see the look she gives me you’d understand.

To my right lives a pretty normal guy. When I first moved in, he waved and I waved back. We haven’t actually met, but we have an unspoken understanding of each other being normal amidst strange people.

Across the street next to lives this younger guy with an unkempt beard. I made the assumption, that because he had a beard, that he also had a sense of humor. After a few weeks of living in my house I was walking out of my house shirtless to get something out of my car. It was real early so I didn’t expect to see anyone. Beard guy was outside and he looked at me and waved. Instead of waving, I decided to raise my fist in the air palms forward. I’m not sure why I did this, and for some reason I expected him to reciprocate the gesture. The man was really shaken and very confused. I have officially become the odd neighbor in this situation.

I have a roommate named Nate. Perhaps the chillest person I have met. He has a boxer named Guppy.

If you ever think of it, you should write me a letter at 436 North Clifton, Wichita, KS67208.

I love getting mail that doesn’t tell me how much money I owe.

Here is a picture of my house.


About mattjaderston
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2 Responses to That place where I live.

  1. emd says:

    love it. 🙂

  2. Bahaha well done! We all are the odd neighbor at some point in our lives, whether or not we realize it. I think it is a necessity for life.

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